


Chivalry's Not Dead, It's Sleeping In Late

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Aranea and Ignis handle a mission together in the World of Ruin (and there was only one bed!).





	Chivalry's Not Dead, It's Sleeping In Late

Ignis listened carefully as Monica outlined the specifics. “It’s five days there and five back. You’ll have a partner - she’s on her way in now. It’s treacherous, but I’ve no doubt the two of you can handle it.”

Ignis nodded. His head turned at the sound of boots in the doorway and a raspy laugh.

“Well, if it isn’t old Four-eyes. Fancy meeting you again in these elegant surroundings.”

He remembered her voice, and it instantly conjured a memory of her face. She still sounded as vibrant as they’d looked when they first met. Ignis walked over to her. “Miss Highwind.” He nodded politely and held out his hand.

She grabbed it with both of hers. They were warm. “Thought I told you. Just Aranea is fine.” Her squeeze was affectionate. “Good to see you again.”

She took their instructions from Monica with a thanks and a nod, and Ignis followed the sound of her footsteps outside.

“I hope you like motorcycles.”

They took off in an engine roar, scattering gravel behind them.

The outpost was teeming with daemons - and daemon hunters. Even little Talcott - though at nineteen, Ignis supposed he really ought to stop thinking of him that way - had come out to control the unexpected horde of them. They’d been lucky to get one of the last rooms in the dilapidated old motel, and the single bed in the middle of the room hadn’t registered with either of them when they’d quickly dropped their supply packs inside the door and headed out to handle the mess.

Later, exhausted, Ignis swung the door open and felt Aranea move past him. She clicked on the light and made an interesting noise he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He bent down to follow the edge of the bed nearest him, then looked for the end of it and the beginning of the next one.  He found, instead, a well-worn chair and a side table. And then he was at the window.

“Oh. I’m happy to take the floor, it’s really -”

“No. Are you kidding me?”

Ignis heard her sit heavily on the bed, and the sound of boots being pulled off.  Aranea sighed in relief.

“I don’t mind.” Ignis was already touching the chair, trying to get a sense for whether he could fold himself into it for the night.

“Cut the goddamn chivalry and get in the bed, asshole.”

Ignis chuckled and gave up, feeling his way to the dresser to deposit his visor and gloves before hanging his jacket over a chair. He left his shoes under it, too, so he could find them in the morning.  

“You always sleep fully dressed, or…?”

Ignis blushed, and sought revenge. “Why, are you trying to get me out of my clothes?”

“Of course not! Just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He heard the bed creak and the blankets flop as though she’d turned over huffily.

He heard her move, and the unmistakable sound of skin on skin made him think she wasn’t wearing pants.

He blushed more. Of course she wasn’t. Did he expect her to sleep in all that leather?

Still, the picture of what she might look like - and feel like - under the sheets invaded his mind.  

He reached down to pull the sheet over him and accidentally confirmed it. His fingers grazed over the smooth skin of her thigh, and they both jumped.

“My - apologies. Quite unintentional.”

She turned her back to him. “It’s fine, four-eyes. I’m a professional. Once you’ve seen one dick pissing in the breeze, you’ve seen them all.”

He couldn’t help laughing at her crassness, and she paused before continuing.

“It’s not like I thought it was on purpose. Don’t worry about it.”

What was that supposed to mean? Ignis huffed a little himself and settled down to sleep. Despite his exhaustion, though, sleep was slow to come, and he ruminated on the day’s events and what would be needed tomorrow. Aranea was asleep almost instantly - at least one of them would be well-rested.

As the night wore on, Ignis discovered something else. Aranea Highwind snored.

It was endearing, really. Even with her back to him, he could hear the low buzz, and envisioned the flutter of silvery hair as her breath puffed out.

Some hours later, Ignis woke up on his side, facing the window, with a warm, solid body wrapped firmly around him. He laughed quietly to himself, trying not to wake her. Who would have guessed that the hardened mercenary was a cuddler?

He must have stirred her, though, because the hand against his chest traced over his skin lazily.

He turned his head back as far as it would go, murmuring, “Hello there.”

He could almost hear her scowl. “Sssshshshshshh. Sleeping. Comfy.”

Had she just burrowed her face into his back? Ignis didn’t think it was quite morning yet, and - well, he was quite comfortable. Aranea’s warm, rhythmic breaths against his skin lulled Ignis back into a deep sleep.

The next time he woke, it was to the screech of an alarm coming from Aranea’s phone. He roused himself from a rather fantastical dream about fields of sylleblossoms to find himself with his nose buried in her hair. His eyebrows shot up in alarm as he realized he was fully curled around her.

Her stomach was a little soft over the lines of muscle, and Ignis found himself reluctant to pull his hand back just yet.

A deep laugh came from Aranea as she reached an arm out, stabbed at her phone, and threw it back onto the side table. She hadn’t moved her hips, and the small grinding motion she made back at him made clear she was aware of every inch of the body pressed against her. In particular, certain inches Ignis was realizing were relatively telling and quite embarrassingly hard.  

“Hmm, not sure whether I should take that personally or not.” She stretched languidly, not avoiding pressing herself into his body at all.

Ignis stuttered and scooted away, despite the strong urge he had to do exactly the opposite and wind his arms around her again. “You started this,” he muttered, and flopped to his back.

“Started what, exactly?” Suddenly, she was perched on his sternum like a cat, close enough for him to feel her breath on his chin.  

Ignis opened his mouth and closed it again. She giggled, and he felt it ripple against his chest.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“Dreaming? I don’t … why?”

“No reason. You were humming. You sounded happy.”

He tried to angle his head away from her, a difficult task with her so close. “We should probably - get moving.  The shower is yours if you’d like.”

“Right. Long day ahead.” Aranea agreed but didn’t move. “Do you… ?”

Ignis made a small questioning noise but didn’t answer. Aranea’s breath got even closer, and then her lips touched to his, just lightly. He moved his head forward to press back a little more firmly, heart racing in his ears. He felt fingers tangle in the hair at the top of his head, and he ventured to smooth a hand over Aranea’s cheek.

“Yeah, okay.” Aranea cleared her throat. “Shower.” She withdrew, and he heard her bustle away.

Ignis sat up, ran a hand through his hair, and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He paused to grin and laugh to himself a moment before standing up. This mission was filled with the unexpected, to be sure.


End file.
